


Treacherous Hearts

by redcandle17



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adultery, Community: dysfuncentine, Extramarital Affairs, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-14 18:16:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1276155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redcandle17/pseuds/redcandle17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaise Zabini embarks on an ill-fated extramarital affair with Ginny Potter née Weasley.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Treacherous Hearts

Blaise had been determined to be different from his mother. He would marry once and stay with his wife for the rest of his life. Having three different stepfathers before the age of eleven gave a man that kind of resolve. He’d meant every word of the vows he made the day he wed Daphne, and he’d had a happy marriage - until seven months ago.

It was tempting to blame it all on Theodore and his damnably boring parties. As if the dull conversation and lackluster entertainment weren’t bad enough, the service at the party was poor. Theo’s professional Quidditch player wife was a radical who’d freed their house-elves, and the Squibs they’d hired to replace them proved to be terrible servants. Blaise was forced to go in search of someone to refill his glass. 

He quite literally bumped into Ginny Weasley - now Ginny Potter - and her wine spilled all down the front of his robes. Blaise swore and sneered, but before he could berate her for her clumsiness and lack of manners, she cast a quick spell that vanished the wine from his clothing. She didn’t apologize; she just stood there with her wand still pointed at him, daring him to say anything. 

They didn’t run in the same social circles, so Blaise had only seen Ginny a handful of times since Hogwarts and then only from a distance. Up close, he was struck anew by how beautiful she was. Her aggressive attitude didn’t detract from her looks; rather it enhanced them. There was truth at the heart of all cliches and Ginny epitomized the fiery redhead. 

“Where have you been hiding all evening?” he asked.

“I took Morgana up on her offer to explore the manor,” she said. “I found it much more enjoyable than the company present.”

Which begged the question of why she’d attended the party. She and Morgana both played for the Holyhead Harpies and there must have been prior invitations to socialize, but Ginny had never shown up before. Blaise would wager that Potter was after Theo for something but had been unable to get legal justification to search the property and so had sent his wife to snoop around for him. 

“Did you find anything of particular note?”

She didn’t answer him. She slipped her wand back into the folds of her robes. “And why did you leave the party, Zabini? Are you meeting someone in the toilet for a quickie?”

Leave it to a Weasley to suggest such vulgarity. Yet Blaise found himself stirred by it. He imagined Ginny bent over a toilet, taking it from behind. “You betray your roots, Weasley. _This_ home has over a dozen bedrooms; a couple on a secret rendezvous would not have to resort to using the loo.” 

Ginny flushed in anger and her hand twitched, as if she had the urge to slap him or to draw her wand and hex him. 

“I’ll remind you it’s quite ill-mannered to attack a fellow guest in someone’s home.” 

“Twat.” She bumped him as she walked pass, heedless of the fact that he was half a foot taller and a good three or four stone heavier than she. What an aggressive little bitch she was. Blaise almost felt sorry for Potter. 

After that night, it seemed he saw her everywhere. She and Potter happened to be having dinner at the same restaurant where Blaise celebrated his anniversary with Daphne. He saw her browsing at Twilfitt and Tatting’s. She was two people ahead of him in the line at Gringotts. Yet it was two months before they spoke again. 

She initiated the conversation this time. “Fancy running into you here, Zabini.”

Blaise looked up from examining the shelves in Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions. “Is it really such a surprise, Weasley? I recall you once said I was vainer than most girls.” 

“Still, I’d expect you to order by post, not come in here and browse.” 

Apart from a middle-aged wizard sniffing perfumes and asking people which they thought his wife would like best, Blaise was the only man in the shop. It did not bother him. If other wizards were too foolish to take care of their appearance, that was their problem. “Why not? I’m confident of my manhood. I’m sorry you can’t say the same of your menfolk.” 

Ginny gritted her teeth, but she had no comeback. She attempted to jostle him as she walked by, but Blaise was ready for her this time. He squared his shoulders and planted himself firmly athwart her path. She glared at him, unwilling to ask his pardon or to walk around him. They stood at an impasse for a long moment. 

Then Blaise stepped aside and bowed dramatically. Ginny stormed away without a word. Blaise chuckled. He was looking forward to their next run-in.

They encountered each other frequently. On one such encounter, after Ginny had left the elevator, Blaise realized he was smiling. The smile faded as he realized that he anticipated seeing Ginny Weasley with a sort of excitement he never felt for Daphne. It was then that he began to question what exactly happiness was. 

He was contented in his marriage, but he was realizing that contentment was not the same as happiness. He tried to fix things. He took Daphne on a two week holiday to the Amalfi Coast, but she insisted on bringing along little Andrea. She would not leave their son at the villa with his governess either; she wanted him to go with them wherever they went. Blaise ended up spending most of the holiday taking photos of a five year old or posing for photos with a five year old. 

“Why?” Blaise had asked his mother once, at the funeral of one of his stepfathers. 

“I was bored,” she’d replied. 

Despite his best efforts, Blaise could no longer deny that he was bored with Daphne. They were perhaps too compatible. She was too neat a fit in his life for him to feel any excitement for her. Even their sex life had become a matter of routine. She was his wife, but she was no longer his lover. 

Blaise was out contemplating his newfound marital dissatisfaction when Ginny walked in and sat down at the other end of the bar. It seemed like destiny at work. He ordered another drink and had a bottle of the most expensive firewhiskey in stock sent over to Weasley. He expected her to refuse the gift, perhaps to even smash the bottle in a fit of Gryffindor drama, but Ginny simply poured herself a drink and raised her glass to him.

He returned the salute and downed his own whiskey. However, what happened couldn’t be blamed on alcohol. Neither of them was truly drunk when Ginny followed him into the men’s room. “Shut up, Zabini,” she said, before he could even say anything. “Just keep your mouth shut.” 

Yet no sooner had she ordered him to keep his mouth closed, she was forcing it open, kissing him insistently. This wasn’t the place for foreplay and they didn’t waste time on it. Ginny unbuckled his belt and unzipped his trousers, and as soon as his cock hardened in her hands, she turned around and presented him with her shapely arse. Blaise tugged her tight trousers down to her thighs and entered her cunt without preamble. 

He half-expected guilt and angst afterwards, but Ginny surprised him. “You fuck as good as you look, Zabini. I’m surprised.”

Blaise tucked his cock back into his trousers and zipped up. “You shagged a man expecting a lousy shag? You’re an odd one.” 

“I didn’t expect it to be worth a repeat. Here, Sunday, around three o’clock?”

“If you’re lucky.” He finished straightening his clothes and casually walked out of the restroom, letting her think he did this sort of thing all the time. He had no intention of meeting her - to do so would turn this into an affair, and a random fuck in a public toilet was one thing, but Blaise would not ruin his marriage with an affair.

However, all week he kept thinking about what had happened and he felt an electric thrill he’d never felt before. He made love to Daphne Saturday night, more passionately than he had in years, trying to exorcise Ginny Weasley from his thoughts. He had Daphne - he loved Daphne - he didn’t need to fuck Weasley.

Yet at five minutes past three o’clock on Sunday, he found himself Apparating to the bar. Ginny was sitting at a table alone. Blaise fought himself every step of the way as he approached her. 

“Zabini.” Ginny stood and stretched. She was wearing bright pink lipstick, a mini-skirt, and no bra. It was clear to anyone looking at her what she was after. Blaise doubted she’d left home wearing the outfit she wore now. He wondered what Potter would think if he could see his wife. 

“Weasley. You’re a bit young for a midlife crisis, aren’t you?”

Instead of spitting some venomous retort at him, she simply shrugged. “I don’t want to be anyone’s Mum for a little while, is all.” 

“Where _are_ your children and your oh-so-heroic husband?” Blaise wondered why she wasn’t home baking cookies. He remembered an interview she and Potter had given a few years back. They’d said they liked to bake as a family activity and the _Daily Prophet_ had even published an accompanying recipe said to be the Potter family’s favorite. 

“Where’s your wife and kid?”

“Home. But I’m not the one who tells newspapers how happy I am just being with my family.” Blaise followed her into the women’s room and locked the door. 

Ginny lifted her short skirt. She wasn’t wearing knickers. “Stop talking and find some better use for your tongue, Zabini.” 

Two months of secret meetings passed before Blaise realized he had to do something. He couldn’t keep having an affair. It wasn’t fair to Daphne or even to Harry Potter. It wasn’t fair to himself either. He wanted to enjoy being with Ginny without guilt. They only met up two or three times a week for a couple of hours at a time, but every moment he wasn’t with her was spent looking forward to the next time he’d see her. 

“How’s a week in Bali sound?” He kissed her neck. “I’d say a month, but I know you have to come home and play Mommy.” 

“What would I tell Harry? I could say it was a Harpies training retreat, but he’s a Quidditch nut and an Auror, he’s bound to find out there’s no training retreat.” 

“Tell him you’re spending the week on a sunny beach with your lover.”

She giggled. 

“I’m serious,” Blaise said. “It can’t go on like this forever. You’re obviously not happy with Potter and I’m not happy with Daphne, so let’s put them out of our misery.”

“What about the kids?”

“I’ve had enough stepfathers to know how to be a good one.”

“I don’t want to talk about that,” Ginny said. She pushed him onto his back and straddled him. “If you want to talk, talk dirty, baby.”

It took him another month to convince Ginny that he was serious about divorcing their spouses and being together openly. 

“All right,” she said. “You win.” They were in the honeymoon suite of a very expensive hotel in Muggle London. 

Blaise poured them each a glass of champagne. “What did I win?”

Ginny took one of the glasses. “I’ll tell Harry tomorrow and ask him for a divorce.”

They’d gotten good at finding ways to be together; Harry thought Ginny was having a spa weekend with the witches from her team, and Daphne thought Blaise was in Russia on business. It would be a relief not to lie, though, and not to worry about being caught together. 

“I’ll tell Daphne.” Blaise had already planned what he was going to say to his wife. He’d only been waiting for Ginny. Once he informed Daphne and they initiated divorce proceedings, he could ask Ginny to marry him. He’d already chosen an engagement ring. “And then we are going to be so happy, Ginny.”

His important conversation with Daphne went as well as could be expected. She flung an antique vase at his head when he told her the other woman was Ginny Weasley, but otherwise she was remarkably composed. “You’ll pay, Blaise. I’ll take every last knut you have and see if Weasley still wants you then.” 

Mindful of the example his mother had set with her string of wealthy husbands who’d all met untimely deaths, Blaise had long ago taken the precaution of banking the bulk of his fortune in several remote countries. He could afford to let Daphne clean out his Gringotts account and think she’d won. “I’ll take care of you and Andrea, of course. “

As he waited for the house-elves to pack his things, Blaise studied the family photographs on the walls. He knew he should feel sad, if not regretful, but he didn’t. He felt free.

“Why?” Daphne asked. “Just tell me why, Blaise.”

Blaise weighed whether to spare her feelings with a lie or grant her the respect of the truth. He decided to tell the truth. “I was bored.” 

His soon-to-be ex-wife seemed like she hadn’t heard him at first. She was completely still, with no reaction whatsoever. Blaise removed a framed photo from the wall and stared at it intently to avoid having to look at Daphne. It was a very old photo. It showed him as an infant cradled in his father’s arms. It was one of only a handful of photos Blaise had of his father. Not long after he’d been born, his mother and father had gone on a romantic weekend to Paris, where his father suffered a sudden and fatal illness. 

There was a loud cracking sound as Daphne Apparated away. Blaise let out a sigh of relief. He hated melodrama. He poured himself a stout glass of firewhiskey, reflecting as he did that it would be his last in this house. He’d already found a flat where he and Ginny could live until their divorces were finalized and they were free to make a new home together as husband and wife. 

His things finally ready, Blaise ordered the house-elves to take them to his new flat. He was taking one last look around when he heard the sound of someone Apparating in. He cursed himself for lingering long enough for Daphne to come back. 

But it wasn’t Daphne. It was Draco. Daphne must have gone crying to her sister, Astoria, who’d sent her husband to talk to him. “Have you lost your mind?” Draco demanded.

Blaise bristled. “It’s not your business, Malfoy.”

“You’re leaving your wife and son, and for _Ginny Weasley_ of all people?! I’m shocked Potter hasn’t killed you yet. Or is she only telling him now? You two planned it neatly, didn’t you? You’re just going to run off like a selfish prick.” 

“Oh, because it’s noble to stay in an unhappy marriage for the sake a child who’ll grow up to have his own unhappy marriage? That’s the cycle for your kind, Malfoy. Not me. I’m not going to waste my life being _noble_.”

“Unhappy marriage???” Draco asked incredulously. His anger vanished. “Blaise, you and Daphne were happy. You’re under some kind of love spell, I’m sure of it.” 

Blaise chuckled humorlessly. “Have you forgotten who my mother is? I’m well versed in love magic and how to protect myself from it.” 

“So that’s it, then? You destroy your life-”

“To build a new one, with the woman I love.”

Draco shook his head. “It’s not too late. Go to Daphne and apologize, and you two can pretend none of this ever happened.” 

“Save your breath, Draco. I made my decision.”

“You won’t be welcome at Malfoy Manor any longer.” 

That was no great loss. Draco’s parties were even more boring than Theodore’s. Blaise nodded at Draco and prepared to Apparate. He’d had enough of this place. 

Two days passed before Ginny arrived at their new flat. Blaise was worried sick the entire time, wondering if Potter had snapped and murdered her. Never for a moment did he think what Ginny was now telling him: that she’d changed her mind. 

“I can’t do it, Blaise. It would destroy Harry, and the kids would hate me. My mother would never speak to me again. The whole family would hate me.” 

“I’ve already told Daphne. My attorney has already begun the paperwork for a divorce.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m really, really sorry.” She wrapped her arms around his middle and laid her head on his shoulder. “I do love you, and we can still be together.”

“A few minutes here and there for a fuck while Potter thinks you’re out getting your hair done? No, thank you.” Blaise pried himself free from her embrace. “You can’t have your cauldron cake and eat it too, Ginny. You have to choose.” 

“Blaise, be reasonable.” 

“It’s everything or nothing,” he insisted. “I won’t be your man on the side while you pretend to have a perfect family with Potter.”

He watched Ginny compose herself and knew what her answer would be. He steeled himself to bear it without showing his reaction. 

“Then I guess we’re through. It’s too bad. I’ve really enjoyed our time together.” She picked up her handbag and slid it onto her shoulder. It was a very final gesture. Blaise would always remember it. He watched her leave without saying anything, and when she was gone, he exploded. 

He went from room to room, smashing everything he’d bought for their new life together. What he couldn’t destroy with his bare hands, he blasted with bolts of pure magic from his wand. At last, he laid down in the middle of the wreck, drained of energy and emotion. 

He didn’t remember sleeping, but he woke and felt renewed. Not refreshed, but filled with a new sense of purpose and rage. He could hate as well as he loved; Ginny Potter would soon discover that. Idea after idea flashed through his head until he settled on one that would impress even his mother. Ginny didn’t want to give up her perfect family, did she? Well, Blaise would see to it that she ended up as humiliated and heartbroken as she’d left him. It was one vow he knew he could keep.


End file.
